Papa’s in the House, Part 1

So we haven’t talked in a week. Let’s bring you up to speed!

I went to dinner up at the port with dad and leslie a week ago tonight. Food was good, but you know what was even better? Grandma sent me Valentine Cookies, her famous amazing Valentine Cookies, and let me tell you, the universe was beautiful. Wednesday I went to class while they saw some stuff around Tel-Aviv, grabbed lunch with them, and napped a bit before we had a nice dinner. Thursday was the same, and Ayala ate dinner with us that night.

And here begins the story of how Matthew almost couldn’t come back from Jordan.

Friday morning we took off at the crack of dawn to visit Eilat, on the southernmost tip of Israel. Eilat is a totally tourist town, though Tel Aviv’s rise to metropolitan status and the Sinai’s ascent to resort paradise has turned it into a poor city whose majority of tourists are young israelis looking to party for the week. It used to be Vegas, and now it’s South Padre Island… and it’s a four and a half hour drive from Tel Aviv, not close to anything, so they’re struggling.

One thing they do have, though, are open and passable borders with both Egypt and Jordan. A while back, Dad and Leslie mentioned to me that they were interested in seeing Jordan, and asked me if I was into that. Knowing that Israelis have a hard time touring around these neighboring countries, and that I would show on my passport that I was living in Israel, I was hesitant. But I learned that Jordan has the best relations with Israel out of all of them, and that it would be fine, and so I took them up on it. When we got into the Eilat airport, we dropped off our suitcases and made our way to the border for a tour of Petra.

Minor segue (necessary to understanding the story): a few months ago, I visited the Ministry of the Interior, which is located in the heart of downtown Tel Aviv, about a 25 minute walk from my apartment. This was before I lived in my apartment, to give you a frame of reference… Anyway, I went to get a work visa, and I waited in that office for over four hours before they finally helped me. What they told me was that I needed proof I was Jewish to get a Visa, and that unless I was planning on working regularly, it wasn’t a must. I left frustrated, and after a couple of construction jobs I realized I really didn’t need a Visa. So I never went back.

Continuing.

So I started speaking to the woman at the border, and as she looked through my passport, she began to slow down and contort her unhappy Israeli face. Our conversation in hebrew went like this:

Girl: “Why have you been here since August 11?”

Matthew: “I’ve been learning hebrew in an Ulpan in Tel Aviv.”

Girl: “But you have been in Israel for four months.”

Matthew: “Yes. And can you believe we’re speaking to each other in hebrew after only four months?! It’s been great.”

Girl: “Well that’s lovely, but your Passport serves as a 3 month visa. You can’t be here.”

Matthew: “Sorry what?”

So we argued for a few more minutes. I explained that the interior, who grants visas, told me I didn’t need a new visa when I visited a little over two months ago, and that I bought an airplane ticket in the summer to leave israel January 7th at 5:30 AM. She kept asking me why I couldn’t just learn Hebrew in America, and I said do you really think we’d be having this conversation after 4 months of learning if I wasn’t living here?

She was unhappy with me. Finally, she stamped my passport so I could leave Israel. But this worried me.

Matthew: “So, we’re only going to Jordan for the day. We’re coming back at 6 tonight. Will I be able to get back in?”

Girl (After silently looking at me for a good 15 seconds): “When you return, we’ll talk.”

When you return, we’ll talk. Believe it or not, that sounds even more uncertain in hebrew. I spent the whole day wondering if I was going to have to get my roommates to mail my stuff back to the states, or if I was going to have to start studying in Amman, or if I was going to have to kill my dad for taking me to Jordan.

We told the tour guide in Jordan about it, and he told us a story of a friend of his who lived in Israel, came over to jordan for a day, and was not allowed back into Israel. So that was reassuring. But when we got back, I talked to the girl, and her coworker, and her supervisor, and after a while, they agreed to grant me a one month visa. Which means my visa here will expire two days before I leave. Anyway, it was a scare.

We toured around Eilat that day and the next, and caught a flight up to Haifa, quickly driving up to Tiberius, which is in the far north of the country. When I get my camera out and upload the pictures, I’ll tell you all about it. For now, though, that’s what I got. I’m gonna grab a bite to eat and watch 30 Rock. I’m thankful to be in my apartment… which only three days ago, I wasn’t sure I’d see again